


The Happiest Man on Earth

by duplicity, Minryll, Sakuragane_San



Series: Cursed Crew Collabs [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Hogwarts First Year, Mirror of Erised, poor harry's eyes will never be the same ever again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplicity/pseuds/duplicity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minryll/pseuds/Minryll, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuragane_San/pseuds/Sakuragane_San
Summary: Snape discovers the Mirror of Erised. Harry is an unfortunate witness.
Series: Cursed Crew Collabs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833868
Comments: 39
Kudos: 196





	1. Fic by Duplicity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waitingondaisies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingondaisies/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Chosen One & The Halfblood Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929391) by [waitingondaisies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingondaisies/pseuds/waitingondaisies). 



> This lovely gem is brought to you by the cursed trifecta, enjoy the results of our cursedness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter written by [duplicity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplicity/pseuds/duplicity) :)

Harry was ensconced in the corner just outside the corridor where Filch and Snape were talking.

The conversation was growing louder. Harry had no idea which direction Snape and Filch would be coming from, only that they were definitely getting closer.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor,” said Filch, “if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section."

Harry’s pounding heart was ringing oddly in his ears. Or maybe the Invisibility Cloak draped over him was also serving to muffle the ambient noise.

Snape’s voice grew louder as he continued speaking. "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far. We'll catch them." 

Harry swallowed around the anxious lump in his throat and took another step back—

Only to nudge up against a suit of armour, which shifted with a loud _clang._ The noise rang so loud Harry could have sworn it drowned out the entire castle. Without thinking about it, Harry sucked in a breath, well aware that he was concealed visually by the cloak, not physically.

“There, that way!” Filch called, sounding entirely too gleeful.

Harry felt rooted to the spot, like there were large rocks tied to both of his feet. Snape and Filch were going to find him, they were going to find him. He had to _move._

Just to Harry’s left, there was an open door. Harry shifted over to it, careful not to dislodge the hem of the cloak where it covered his feet. The gap between the door and the door frame looked thin enough that he could pass through it without squeaking the hinges.

Angling his body sideways, Harry managed to fit himself through the opening and into the room.

Harry checked that the cloak was still on him, then spared a glance back towards the door, where the sounds of footsteps were still audible. He could only hope that neither Snape nor Filch would think to come in here.

Turning his attention back to the room, Harry eyed the pile of desks and chairs stacked up along the far wall. This had to be an unused classroom, then. But what was most interesting about this room was not its lack of proper furnishing, but rather the large, golden mirror which sat on two small, clawed feet against the side wall.

The mirror was tall, almost as high as the ceiling. It looked as though someone had simply forgotten it in here. There was no covering on it, and from this angle Harry could see that the surface of the mirror was only slightly opaque with dust. An inscription was carved on the top of the mirror’s frame, and Harry had to squint to read it.

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

Entranced, Harry drew closer. 

After all, the portraits in this school could talk, and the stairs could move, and the fireplaces lit themselves. Did this mirror have magical properties, too? Or was it just a mirror?

The door to the classroom slammed open. Harry bit back a noise of terror, whirling around.

Snape had entered the classroom.

Harry had to remind himself that he was invisible, that Snape could not see him. And if Snape could not see him, then there was no reason for Snape to suspect there was anyone in this room at all.

Snape’s dark balls of sight swept the apparently-empty classroom with no small measure of disgust.

Breath held, Harry waited for Snape to get impatient and leave.

Snape did not leave. Instead, his gaze caught upon the very mirror which Harry had been about to investigate. The mirror with the strange inscription written into the ornate golden frame.

As Snape approached the mirror, Harry made his way over to the wall, hoping that he could escape while Snape was distracted.

Step by step, Snape walked over to the mirror and Harry drifted over to the door.

Just a bit further—

Snape came to a halt in front of the mirror.

Harry bolted for the door.

Once outside in the corridor, Harry spared a quick look in both directions for Filch before he took off at a good pace, trusting that whatever strangeness the mirror possessed would keep Snape occupied long enough for Harry to make it back to Gryffindor Tower in one piece.

* * *

The next morning, Harry avoided looking at the staff table while he and Ron ate breakfast. It was only when Ron made an off-handed comment that Harry realized his efforts had been for naught.

“Hey, Harry, take a look!” Ron said in a whisper. “At the head table. Snape’s not here today.”

Harry lifted his head to look. 

Indeed, the potion master’s usual seat was vacant.

Harry thought back to the empty classroom, to the mysterious mirror that lived inside of it. Had the mirror… had the mirror done something to Snape?

Honestly, it would serve the man right for trying to knock Harry off his broom. And for being a right jerk to his students in general.

But still. If the mirror _had_ eaten Snape or something, then Harry had a duty to at least find out what had happened.

Harry scraped his plate clean and stood up. “I’ll see you later,” he told Ron. “There’s something I have to check up on.”

“Ah,” Ron said, nodding sagely. He winked. “I’ve got you, Harry. See you in the common room later.”

Right. Well, if Ron only thought it was because Harry was going to go snooping about in the Restricted Section, then all the better.

Once out in the corridor, Harry fished his father’s cloak out of his bag. He would put it on once he was closer to the classroom.

* * *

It took awhile for Harry to figure out where he’d ended up last night in his haste to evade Snape and Filch, but eventually Harry found himself in the correct corridor outside the correct classroom. 

The door was still ajar.

Harry already had his cloak on, just in case someone came across and asked him what he was doing. But this section of the school did not seem to get much foot traffic given the lack of used classrooms.

Clutching the edges of the cloak tightly to his chest, Harry ventured into the classroom, apprehensive of what he would find.

The first thing that Harry noted?

Snape was _still here._

Had Snape even left this classroom since last night? Harry couldn’t tell. Snape always wore the same clothes, day in, day out. Black shoes and socks and robes and trousers. It was near-impossible to tell if Snape had spent the night in this room or not.

Snape was kneeling before the large mirror, hand outstretched, fingers curled in so that the pads of his fingers were pressed against the reflective surface.

If not for the fact that Harry could hear Snape muttering under his breath, he would have worried that the mirror had somehow frozen Snape in place.

And then Snape did something entirely unexpected.

He leant towards the mirror and kissed it.

Harry felt a violent wrench in the back of his mind that signalled his abrupt departure from reality.

In front of the mirror, Snape resumed murmuring— _sweet nothings? compliments? heartfelt apologies?_ —to his mirror image.

Every instinct in Harry was screaming for him to stop, to _leave,_ to go and do something _sensible_ like tell Professor McGonagall that this mirror had turned Snape into a raving narcissist.

Unfortunately, Harry was once again horribly, terribly rooted in place, unable to move more than a millimeter in any direction, unable to turn away from the horror show playing out before his very eyes.

This had to be the worst day of his entire life. He’d gone looking for information on Nicholas Flamel, and instead he’d been confronted by the fact that Snape had _feelings._

Not only that, but also that those particular feelings were apparently self-directed.

Harry wondered if inducing illness within himself with magic was possible, and if so, would he be able to purge all his memories of this moment.

After another minute of… whatever this was, Harry decided that he had to leave for his sanity’s sake.

Leaving Snape to his odd fate, Harry resolved to come back later tonight to check up on the man. 

If Snape was still here at that point, then Harry would go and tell a professor. Because really, the snatches of what Harry could hear Snape saying seemed… kind of private. Snape probably wouldn’t appreciate other adults walking in on him.

* * *

That night, when Harry returned to the classroom to check on Snape, Snape was not there.

In Snape’s place was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was standing by one of the desks stacked by the far wall, his pose casual as he eyed the door to the classroom.

“So, Harry,” said Dumbledore, stepping over to where Harry stood, frozen, a few paces away from the doorway. “You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.”

Harry felt his stomach drop away, his insides flooding with anxiety. Dumbledore could see him? With great reluctance, Harry dropped the hood of his cloak.

“I didn't know it was called that, sir,” Harry said.

Something bad must have happened to Snape after all, and now Dumbledore was here to punish Harry for letting it happen.

“But I expect you've realized by now what it does?”

Harry had no idea, but he was willing to hazard a guess. “I would guess that it makes the person who looks into the mirror fall in love with themselves,” Harry said confidently.

Dumbledore stared at Harry. He stared for so long that Harry began to doubt his theory.

“I mean,” Harry said, awkwardly compelled to correct himself, “that’s what I thought it did. I don’t really know.”

“What… what do you see when you look into the mirror, Harry?” Dumbledore asked faintly.

This, at least, Harry could answer truthfully without fear of giving the wrong answer. “Oh, I haven’t looked yet, sir. I was only just guessing, like I said.”

Dumbledore relaxed, a genial smile spreading across his face, and so Harry could not help the next question that spilled forth:

“Sir, what do _you_ see when you look in the mirror?”

“I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks.”

That did not seem conducive to kissing, but at this point Harry was rather too afraid to ask what had happened to Professor Snape.

“One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.”

“Right,” Harry said, for the lack of a better response.

“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”

Harry shook his head.

Dumbledore hummed softly, then said, “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?”

Then Snape must be a very happy man, Harry thought to himself. But that did not explain why Snape was so nasty to everyone.

“It does,” Harry said, hoping that Dumbledore would not ask for further explanation or guesses on his part.

The silence stretched on. 

“Should I… should I go look into the mirror, sir?” Harry asked hesitantly. “Would that help me figure it out?”

Dumbledore opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he opened it again and said, “This mirror shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts.”

That made even less sense. Dumbledore’s deepest desire was for a pair of woolen socks? 

Harry shifted uncomfortably. At this point, all he really wanted to do was leave. 

If Headmaster Dumbledore was not going to blame him for Snape’s misfortune, then Harry would be far better off as far away from this room, and this mirror, as soon as possible.

“However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth,” Dumbledore continued. “Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.”

From Harry’s current perspective, it seemed as though things in the mirror could seem very, very real indeed.

“The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Harry promised fervently, eager to be dismissed. “I won’t go looking for it again. But, um, Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?”

“Obviously, you've just done so,” Dumbledore said. But he smiled at Harry and added, “You may ask me one more thing, however.”

The guilt would not go away unless he found out. That was what Harry told himself as he took a deep breath and asked, “W-what happened to Professor Snape?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Well?” said Quirrell impatiently. “What do you see?”
> 
> Harry screwed up his courage.
> 
> "I see myself holding a pair of, um, wooly socks," he invented hastily.
> 
> Quirrell stared at him.
> 
> “Yes,” Harry said, trying to sound confident. “Socks. It’s something that I share with Professor Dumbledore.”


	2. Comic by Minryll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An incredibly cursed comic by [Minryll](https://minryll.tumblr.com/tagged/my-hand-slipped)
> 
> Harry's very traumatized.


	3. Art by Sakuragane_San

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Harry, so brave   
> Art by [Sakuragane_San](https://sakuraganesan.tumblr.com)


	4. Poem by Sakuragane_San

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now in poem style!

**When Harry Saw Snape in that Room**

Some nights after I received a cloak,    
A cloak that goes a-disappearing.   
Couldn’t sleep so I went on a walk,   
Wandering the halls ah-exploring. 

The stars were my light,   
My footsteps light.   
I spotted an ajar door,   
By gods, what a sight!

The room was empty and dark,   
Yet something was glimmering.    
See and hark,    
What was Snape doing? 

He was kneeling on his knees,    
His face, quite close to the surface.    
Were those, were those  _ keens _ ?    
Never would I have thought that Snape,   
Of all people, was a narcissist. 

Quickly I backed away from the door,    
It shut with a loud bang.    
My heart was thumping wildly in my core,   
Almost forgetting to put on the cloak again. 

Tonight I have witnessed a nightmare,    
Snape kissing his own reflection.    
I hurried back to the dormitories with care,   
Eternally grateful to have avoided detention. 


End file.
